


The Gulf of Lune

by Dragonsquill (dragonsquill), Linane



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Incest, M/M, challenges and prompts, gatheringfiki, interconnected vignettes, new identities, nonlinear, runaways - Freeform, springFRE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-05 17:29:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6714190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsquill/pseuds/Dragonsquill, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linane/pseuds/Linane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU.  They had to run away from home in order to be together.  They find happiness, bunnies, and a little bit of adventure on the Gulf of Lune, beyond the Blue Mountains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bunny Beach

 

_ _

__  


 

_Prompt 16. Uhm, excuse me, but why is that bunny on a leash?_

It was one of those windy, overcast days that transformed the Gulf of Lune from gentle swells to choppy knives. Fíli loved evenings like this – the wind in his hair, little swirls of white sand, not feeling like he was boiling alive in the suits he wore for teaching at the college – but he knew Kíli hated them. Kíli was much more a delicate creature than Fíli, though no one would ever believe it.

Of course, Kíli didn’t have glasses to protect his eyes, like Fíli did. Poor Kíli, he still couldn’t decide whether Fíli’s new eyewear was a turn-on or something he should use to tease Fíli incessantly about getting old.

Speaking of Kíli, Fíli was running late meeting him for their daily walk along the beach, and he hadn’t even had the time to change out of his work clothes and into something more appropriate for the sand and waves. He wasn’t willing to miss their walk, though, so he rushed down the stone walkways, stopping just long enough to tug off his dress shoes and socks and roll up his Kíli-approved (your arse is absolute perfection in those) pants before stepping onto the sand and letting his toes dig in a bit.

_Ahhhh._

Nothing relaxed him after a long day of panicking grad students faster than the feel of sand under his soles and the scent of salt water in the air. And, of course, the low sound of his brother’s voice, as Kíli talked to one of his many passing admirers.

Fíli used to feel jealous over the amount of attention his handsome, engaging Kíli got. Nowadays, he mostly just felt smug.

It was a pair of women this time, elvish-blooded by the look of them, both slender and fair and a bit taller than Kíli, who was tall for a dwarf-blood but not so much for your average pureblood or elvin. Kíli chatted cheerfully, waving one hand as he explained something. The other hand he kept still, which was odd – standing still wasn’t one of Kíli’s skills unless he was working – but all was explained when there was a puff of sand and a thump beside him.

 _Dammit,_ Fíli thought, and he heaved a sigh.

“Uhm, excuse me, but why,” the fairer of the women asked, looking politely confused, “is that bunny on a leash?”

 _Because without it she’ll run away,_ Fíli thought.

“Because without it she’ll run away,” Kíli said, in a voice that silently added _obviously._

Clearly these women had no concept of the number of miles Fíli and Kíli had run the first time Kíli brought Dot to the beach. The cursed furball was _fast_ and incredibly determined and a lot less likely to end up tripping and flat on her face in the surf, than Fíli and Kíli were.

Fíli still had nightmares.

“And because she’s evil incarnate,” Fíli said as he came to a stop beside the love of his life. Kíli looked at him and immediately broke into a huge smile that melted every last scrap of tension in Fíli’s chest.

It always did, that smile. That smile was worth everything – was the reason he gave up (gained) everything and ran away from home to make a new one.

“She is not,” Kíli argued, leaning in and stealing a kiss. “Dot is a precious angel.”

Fíli raised an eyebrow. “That is a blatant lie.”

They all looked down at the bunny in question.

Danger Dorothy, Defender of Worlds, was a rangy excuse for a rabbit. She was medium-sized, brownish, caught somewhere between long haired and just fluffy. And she was bouncing determinedly at the edge of her leash, evil back legs churning the sand as she attempted to rip Kíli’s arm out of the socket in her bid for freedom. Unfortunately for Dot, Kíli’s modeling career meant he had to stay in good shape. She may have been a supervillain (powers: eating wallpaper, pooping everywhere, back feet knockouts), but she wasn’t strong enough to escape her halter and leash.

“Well, maybe not an angel, but we love her.” Kili eyeballed Fíli, daring him to say otherwise. Fili kept his mouth shut. Disparaging either of “their” beloved pets was the fastest route to the sofa in existence. The bunnies were, in fact, Kíli’s. Instead of correcting Kíli (and maybe Kíli was right. …Maybe), Fíli took his hand, lifted it, and kissed the sensitive inside of the wrist as Kíli’s female interrogators twittered at the cuteness of it all.

“Shall we?” he asked, motioning down the beach.

“We shall,” Kíli agreed with a grin, bowed to the ladies, and took Fíli’s hand. The brothers - not that anyone here knew that, not that they told - started off in the direction of the exclusive private homes on the southern shore.

Dot, in her usual stubborn, refusing-to-do-what-you-want fashion, kicked sand all over Kíli’s expensive work trousers, as she attempted to hop away in the opposite direction.

“However will we get our exercise, now that she’s leashed?” Fíli teased. It was a relief, really. Chasing Dot day after day hadn’t been his idea of relaxation.

Dot gave up and flopped in the sand, sulking. Kíli cooed softly as he knelt to pick her up.

“We’ll find other ways,” he answered, peeking from under his dark brows, his lips curved into a promise.

Fíli cleared his throat.

That had not been subtle.

But it was a very good sign that he was going to get laid tonight.

Excellent.

Kíli straightened, cuddled his little angel close-

And took a super strong kick to the chin for his troubles.

Fíli laughed so hard he nearly fell down, Dot leapt for freedom (stopped mid leap by the new halter), and Kíli glowered until Fíli tugged him close and kissed it away.


	2. His Brother

_123\. Person A notices someone slipping something into Person B’s drink and saves the day._

To say it started that night in the pub would be . . . inaccurate. It started before that – years earlier, when they were awkward teenagers, Fíli’s shoulders growing broad from their dwarf blood, Kíli stretching up from human. It started with hidden blushes and stolen glances and the terrifying chance that the other may figure it out some day.

But nothing came of it in that long decade from teen to adult. Not until that night in the pub.

Erebor Dale was a city made up primarily of dwarvins. Centuries past, when the dwarves were still a separate race, they had been close to the humans of Dale. There were even those who claimed those ancient dwarves had been the first to break millennia of taboos and interbred with humans, inadvertently taking the first step toward their people’s extinction as anything other than a line of DNA in human families.

Debates on dwarvin genetics fascinated Fíli. Kíli preferred sports and action to argument. He loved watching Fíli geek out, though, lecturing on genealogy as they worked out or watched television, his usual calm giving away to intense enthusiasm. 

That transformation was just one of the dozens of quirks Kíli loved about Fíli. But love, despite all the clichés that claimed otherwise, was the problem.

Fíli was Kíli’s _brother._

But Kíli’s heart, his body, dammit, his _sou_ l was all wrapped up in and around Fíli like no brother’s should be. 

Which was why Kíli spent the night in question not chatting up the locals but instead stealing besotted glances at Fíli’s perfect profile whenever he could, and nursing the same ale for over half an hour. Too much alcohol tended to loosen his tongue, and he couldn’t afford to pour out every detail of his forbidden passion.

That would be just what he needed: a drunken confession of overpowering incest, witnessed by an audience of dozens.

They’d arrived together at the pub, several blocks from their usual haunt, on the expectation that their cousin Thorin (not to be confused with the uncle) was going to meet him. Thorin cancelled at the last moment (“Thorins are all the same,” Kíli sniffed, and Fíli laughed). An awkward silence descended, uncomfortable and sadly familiar, as soon as they settled at a table.

There’d been a time they were completely comfortable in each other’s presence. Kíli blamed himself for the change in their relationship, silently cursing his heart and all its secrets.

Fíli, always the strategic one, said, “I’ll go grab drinks,” and suited words to actions.

Kíli sighed.

…And watched.

He wasn’t the only one watching. Of course he wasn’t. Fíli was _gorgeous_ , absolutely the hottest guy in the room, dwarvin, elvin, or pureblood. And it wasn’t just Kíli’s bias talking; Fíli drew a lot of eyes, male and female.

Even at the bar.

Kíli’s brows drew down into a scowl.

Two men sidled up on either side of Fíli, all friendly smiles and standing a little too close. They looked like purebloods – ugh, definitely, they were even wearing those ridiculous pureblood pins that idiot Alfrid sold out of Laketown, as if being pureblood meant anything other than your ancestors were so ugly no dwarf or elf would do them.

Hardly a logical source of pride.

Kíli was used to the surge of jealousy that always accompanied the sight of Fíli talked to his admirers. He’d never seen his brother be more than friendly and a little flirtatious – certainly he’d never watching Fíli go home with anyone, thank the Valar. But this time…

This time there was something off. Something that fired in his belly, tugged at his heart-

Something about these two was _wrong._

They were standing too close, the blond on the left taking too much attention, the brunet on the right¬

Kíli was on his feet and storming across the peanut-strewn floor before he was aware of moving at all.

“Get away from him!” Kíli growled, and he’d never heard his voice like that before, more animal than man.

The purebloods looked up, laughter in their eyes. Kíli was tall for a dwarvin, but still stood a food four inches shorter than his adversaries. Fíli’s eyes lifted as well, wide and blue.

“Something we can do for you, dwarf?” the blond asked, sneering the name of a dead race like an insult and leaning forward to emphasize their height difference.

“Yes.” Kíli lifted his chin, unafraid. He had double the muscle of these two losers, and they certainly didn’t look like they’d trained in hand to hand combat. His cheeks were hot, but it wasn’t from fear. “Get away from his drink.”

His right hand darted out and grabbed the brunet’s wrist. He felt the bones grind together under his fingertips.

“Kíli?” his brother asked, his voice warm with concern, and wasn’t that just like Fíli, trying to protect Kíli from protecting him. But Kíli couldn’t be dissuaded, not this time.

“He’s trying to drug you.” A twist of his own wrist – a grunt of pain that filled Kíli with intense, somewhat disturbing satisfaction-and a tiny packet of paper fell to the counter in a puff of powder.

The purebloods shouted and lunged forward, hands outstretched.

Fíli twisted, slamming his elbow into the blond’s stomach and cracking his head against the pureblood’s much more delicate chin. Kíli twisted his captive’s arm back and up and slammed that oh-so-human nose against the bar’s pockmarked surface.

The crunch was the most satisfying sound of all.

The brunet struggled, trying to shove and wiggle away from the powder on the counter. 

Kíli’s vision splashed red.

Kíli was usually the friendly brother, the kind soul who talked to strangers and saw the best in everyone. But when that man tried to squirm away from the same shit he’d intended to give Fíli, every ounce of Kíli’s good humor disappeared in a wave of possessive rage.

Kíli pushed down with his weight, only peripherally aware of Fíli getting the other man to the ground, of Fíli’s grunt of triumph as the much taller man crumpled beneath his knee. He only saw the pureblood, and the powder, and the fear.

“You’re lucky I caught you,” Kíli snarled in the brunet’s upturned ear. “If you’d touched him,” he twisted the arm up, “I’d have ripped this right out of the socket.”

“Kíli-” Fíli’s voice, too close, and Kíli should shut up and let go, but he was too angry and too sad and too-

Desperate.

“Fíli is mine,” he growled, something from those dwarven ancestors in his chest, twisting and possessive and so deeply in love. “No one will ever lay a hand on him.”

A heartbeat.

Two.

The sound of the man in his hands whimpering and begging for release.

The bartender on the phone, calling the police. 

“Don’t let him out of here, I don’t need rapists in my bar.”

Glasses and gossip and 

Fíli’s voice.

“Kíli.”

Kíli’s grip didn’t loosen, even as his breath fled and his eyes fell shut.

“Damn,” he whispered.

A decade of silence, and then just-

Hands, on his shoulders, strong but gentle.

“Kíli.”

Kíli didn’t turn, refused to open his eyes.

There was a smile in that voice, and something heartbroken, and something hopeful.

“And people think my dwarvin blood runs thicker than yours,” Fíli said softly. “Kíli, look at me.”

Kíli did.

Slowly, reluctantly, but he’d trusted Fíli all his life and he couldn’t just stop now.

Fíli met his gaze evenly, his eyes steady. One hand touched Kíli’s wrist. “You can let go.”

Tears pushed at Kíli’s eyes. “I can’t,” he whispered, his voice like gravel.

“You can,” Fíli answered, and there was a curve of a smile. “Because I feel the same, Kíli. Just the same.”

And gently, so soft Kíli barely felt it, the scratch of beard and the brush of lips against his mouth. 

“Let go,” Fíli whispered. “I’m with you. We’re together.”

Kíli let go.

And curled, tears spilling, into his brother’s waiting arms.


	3. Sharp Dressed

 

_153\. Everyone loves a sharp-dressed man._

 

**Job Search Day 4**

Kili looked in the mirror with a professionally critical eye.

His hair was....acceptable, which was really all he could ever hope for. But his suit was very nice indeed, good fabric, a flattering cut, recently tailored - by his own hands, thank you - and set off nicely by the deep blue of his shirt. Kíli had escaped with a careful selection of his old wardrobe, because with his background he needed to look well-dressed to find a job.

"I'd hire me," he said decisively. He turned to the bedroom's other occupant. "What do you think?"

The most recent arrival in their little family blinked sleepily up at him. MegaBun did most everything sleepily. He was a ball of brownish fluff who came in only two speeds: kamikaze madness and absolute stillness.

This morning was an absolute stillness time, clearly.

But it did seem, to Kili, an approving sort of sleepy blink.

Kili grinned. "Thanks, I do look pretty damn hot," he agreed, sweeping the bunny into his arms and kissing the incredibly soft head. MegaBun, despite all the books that warned bunnies could often be less cuddly than anticipated, accepted the affection with quiet aplomb.

MegaBun was a rescue who had wiggled his way into Kili's heart in seconds.

They were still working on Fili's.

"All right, kiddo, in your cage so I can go get a job." Kili knelt and tucked Mega into his cage. Well, Kili called it the cage. Fili called it "the luxurious rodent suite we own instead of an actual comfortable sofa."

Fili was generally very sensible and sweet, but he could harp on things from time to time. As if a sofa was as wonderful as a bun! Pshah.

"Be good," Kili said warmly. "Keep an eye on the house and nibble any robbers you see into submission okay?"

MegaBun hopped once and flopped happily on his side.

Good, the house was safe. Now to remove any stray bunny hairs, check his own hair one more time, and hit the peaceful streets of Lune in search of a job.

....Again.

\----------

**Job Search Day 23**

Kíli stared into the mirror.

His hair was-fine.

Fine.

He just gave up on his hair.

If only it was his teen years again, when messy hair was in. He’d been an absolute heartthrob. Logically, of course, he could cut his hair short; he wasn’t in Erebor anymore, surrounded by dwarvins who clung to the ancient traditions of a dead race. But he’d left so much behind. It seemed too much to leave that as well.

He focused on his clothes instead.

He’d gotten a few off looks over the weeks (along with assurances that his degree in design “overqualified” him for any number of cashiering jobs) for his tailored suits and coordinating ties, so he’d decided to dress down a little today. He wore a blue plaid shirt under a charcoal gray sweater, with dark blue jeans – the only pair he owned.

In Erebor, interviewing in jeans would be frowned upon.; but since his proper clothing didn’t work, Kíli’d decided to try this.

There was a splash of color behind him, and then arms wrapping around him from the side, one hand slipping comfortably into his back pocket. “You look great,” Fíli said, his voice warm and a little sleepy. He slept in these days, since he worked nights.

Kíli grinned. “You look delicious,” he answered, because it was true. Soft sleep pants and no shirt, bare feet and his hair mostly braided so it wouldn’t be a nest in the morning – Fíli looked handsome and content and just-

His.

He leaned in and stole a kiss. He meant it to be quick, but Fíli had other ideas, turning and tugging and running his hands under the sweater and shirt until Kíli moaned softly against his brother’s tongue.

Fíli smirked up at him.

Brat.

“Here, try this.” Fíli stepped back and reached for Kíli’s sleeves, unbuttoning the shirt and carefully rolling it back, along with the sweater, until his forearms were bare. He trailed his fingertips delicately over the exposed skin, teasing the dark hairs and tracing the line of muscle. “Mm. Nice.”

Kíli shivered. Fíli grinned.

MegaBun hopped over and stood on Kíli’s foot.

Now Kíli grinned and Fíli rolled his eyes as Kíli picked him up. “Do I look good?” he cooed, scratching between his long ears.

“You have to ask the rabbit when I’m here?!” Fíli demanded, but there was a smile hidden behind his braids, and he maybe sneaked in a little scratch of his own.

**Job Search Day 33**

Kíli came home with a bunny.

This was the second time this had happened, of course, and he figured if Fíli forgave him once, he’d forgive him again.

This bunny was half grown and amusing looking and he already knew her name was Danger Dorothy, Defender of Worlds, but he was going to call her Dot.

He was tired and annoyed and his shirt wasn’t even tucked in. No one wanted to hire him. No one. He’d tried every clothier in town, put in for every level job, and no one was hiring or they just weren’t hiring _him._

“Maybe I should cut my hair,” he told Dot, who was glaring at him distrustfully from the crate in the seat next to him. “What do you think?”

She turned around and presented him with her bunny butt.

“I’m not sure what to do with that.”

**Job Search Day 41**

Kili didn’t make it out the door.

Apparently, despite his bitter and hangdog expression, the blue suit was more than Fíli could handle.

Instead of being responsible and facing another day of rejections and disappointments, Kíli was sprawled on their bed, grabbing at pillows and groaning as Fíli moved inside him and murmured in his ear how beautiful and perfect and lovable he was.

“You could…uuunnnhhh yeeessss…you could pay me to do…this,” Kíli managed, groaning happily and pushing back with his hips.

Fíli chuckled, his lips warm against Kíli’s shoulder. “I would if I could,” he purred in a voice only Kíli knew.

They both ignored the indignant thump against the door. It was firmly closed and, just in case, locked. They’d learned that lesson the time MegaBun leapt on Kíli’s stomach in mid…activities, and Dot had bitten Fíli’s toes not once, but twice.

Besides, the lovely bangs of the headboard against the wall was much more interesting.

**Job Search Day 43**

He never knew how they got into the closet. It was closed – always closed, he was so careful, he wasn’t going to let anything happen to his clothes. But somehow, that afternoon, after the bunnies’ free run of the house-

The door was open.

And his ties.

His beautiful _ties_ -

All a nibbled mess, and two thrilled buns with silk in their teeth as they bounced proudly around his ankles, clearly pleased with his cries of distress.

“You look just as handsome without a tie choking you to death,” Fíli soothed him, but Fíli didn’t truly understand the importance of looking sharp and well-dressed. Fíli was naturally gorgeous, the absolute ass.

Kíli sighed.

He definitely had to get a job now. He had ties to buy.

**Job Search Day 50**

Kíli found a job.

A _perfect_ job.

Fíli was going to be awesomely excited, as any lover should be.

Kíli wasn’t so sure, though, how Fíli would react to learning that he got the job all because of Danger Dorothy and MegaBun.

Kíli hugged both his bunnies, getting a hard kick from Dot for his troubles.

It was sure going to be fun telling Fíli the story. Maybe he’d even give Dot a scratch!

As long as she didn’t bite.

….Again.


	4. Lifeguards

 

_146\. Lifeguards - Baywatch style_

 

Fíli and Kíli knew they were lucky, as far as being runaways went. Their family was wealthy, and each inherited a lump sum and sizeable trust upon reaching his majority. They’d had to abandon the trusts, but emptying out their bank accounts had given them enough cash to buy their new identities and travel in search of their new lives.

They weren’t sure exactly where they wanted to go, knowing only that it had to be as far as possible from Erebor-Dale. They lived in a beat-up caravan they bought in Rohan for three months – lined with fairy lights, the back seats removed and replaced with a mess of blankets and pillows.

Those were weeks filled with laughter and arguments and the slow, sensual discovery of who they were when they could be openly, miraculously together. Not having a final destination in mind didn’t seem to matter all that much. “We’ll know when we see it,” Kíli assured his brother as they tangled together in the dark, falling asleep to the songs of crickets and the rustle of leaves.

Gulf of Lune stole their hearts in moments.

It was a town made up primarily of purebloods and elvins, but dwarvins weren’t unknown. The ocean was clear and beautiful, lapping at white sand, the air scented with salt. They stood on the beach, hand in hand, and gazed over the water as the sun set beyond the waves.

“It’s perfect,” Fíli said softly, and Kíli echoed him, watching the pinks and reds on his brother’s handsome face, Fíli’s braids half-lifted in the wind.

They bought the flat outright, half of a raised house painted a soft blue that was blasted off here and there by the force of sand in the wind. It wasn’t huge or professionally decorated – indeed, they were fairly scarce on furniture, having brought only a few bags a piece – but it was theirs.

It was home.

Beachfront real estate was incredibly expensive, though, and Fíli announced as soon as they were settled that it was time to break out their new legal names and get jobs.

“We want to save what we have left,” he said, truly their mother’s child.

Kíli ran a thumb over his license. “I don’t know if I can get used to being named…” he scowled at it, “Kendrick Listrom.”

“You’ll still be Kíli,” Fíli said quietly, wrapping his arms around Kíli’s waist. “And Phillip is still Fíli. You know the pureblood names blend in better, and we certainly can’t be Durins anymore.”

Kíli huffed, but acquiesced.

They looked for jobs in their fields, of course, but what they found to ride them over was seasonal work that had nothing to do with dwarf history or modern design.

They were hired as lifeguards.

Their uniform – if it could be called such a thing – consisted of a meager two items: short red trunks and a matching emergency raft.

“And sunscreen,” Kíli added after their first one-hour orientation turned his fairer brother an amusing shade of pink. “Lots of sunscreen.”

Fíli sighed and hissed at once as Kíli gently spread aloe on his shoulders. “It’ll warm to brown eventually.”

“Yes it will.” Kíli smiled and pressed a kiss to the bridge of Fíli’s nose – a personal favorite Fíli-feature, “and you’ll be just totally hot, all tanned and blond.” Fíli’s hair soaked in the sun and shone with golden highlights, Kíli’s very own personal summer.

Their first day of work was perfection. The sun was bright, the waves behaved, and there was enough of a breeze that they didn’t fry on the sand. They were paired with a couple of full-timers, who were told to show them the ropes.

“Elvins,” Fíli muttered as they crossed the sand, still cool enough to walk barefoot. He said the word exactly as their uncle did back in Erebor-Dale, as if it was about 50% curse.

Kíli’s eyes stung a moment at the memory, even as he scoffed, “We’re all humans these days. Just because our great-great-great-a-dozen-greats Grandpa got his panties in a wad over a bunch of elves-”

Kíli cut his sentence off as the pair pranced over.

Their feet seemed barely to touch the sand, and their skin was perfect – an even tan without a single blemish.

Kíli scratched at a zit on his neck and contemplated that perhaps Fíli’s prejudice was a teensie bit more understandable than he’d thought. He sucked his tum in, just a little, as the perfect planes of muscle came to a stop in front of his eyes.

Kíli really needed to get back to the gym more.

“Legolas,” the surly blond said, and, “Tauriel,” the smiling redhead added. Even their voices sounded a little musical.

“The most elvey elvins in the in the history of elves,” Fíli muttered under his breath.

Kíli elbowed him sharply in the ribs, but secretly he had to agree.

\------

 **MY MOMENT OF MADNESS: RESCUE BY THE CENTRAL BEACH LIFEGUARDS**  
Bilbo Baggins, Travel Writer

When my friend Bofur told me that Central Beach was the place to be in Lune, I was admittedly skeptical. Central has never before been a hotspot for the elite, who tend to prefer South, with its private clubs and exclusive beaches.

“It’s not the beaches,” Bofur told me over dinner, “it’s the lifeguards.”

“Lifeguards?” I asked, and his only answer was a cheeky grin that meant I had to go see for myself.

There are four lifeguards assigned to the length of Central Beach. Two are tall and slender, clearly of so much elven blood that to look at them is to imagine what the ancients were like. There’s Tauriel, a smiling redhead who welcomed me personally to her scrap of sand like the most gracious of hosts. Her long-time partner is Legolas – more quiet, his handsome features somehow transforming his expression from sullen to mysterious.

Dressed in the red suits of the Public Safety Authority, Tauriel and Legolas race lightly over the sand, water splashing playfully at their ankles like curious kittens. Even with no lives to save, they’re a striking pair.

But Tauriel and Legolas have been at Central Beach for years, causing a much more limited stir. What’s changed, you might ask, to cause such sudden interest?

The changes are named Phillip and Kendrick, and their dwarf blood runs as deep as Tauriel and Legolas’s elven.

Phillip is the older of the two, small and blond, his long hair kissed by the sun. Kendrick is younger but taller, perhaps 5’7” to Phillip’s 5’5” or so. They are both muscular and square, with thick pelts of chest hair that, I have been reliably informed, “practically beg to be touched.”

All four of the lifeguards are, indeed, extremely handsome.

But how does one go about seeing them in action, I wondered.

“Well,” said a friendly passer-by, “someone needs to drown a bit, don’t they?”

It is here that your humble reporter must make a confession. It is a well-known fact that my homeland of Shire has an abysmal number of residents who can’t swim, leading to a disproportionately high number of water fatalities each year. But my mother was an adventurer, and no son of Belladonna Took Baggins was going to be helpless in the water. I’ve been a natural swimmer more or less since birth (and why not, with feet that have been rudely compared to flippers on more than one occasion?).

And yet-

It was so tempting-

If I just slipped and splashed around a bit-

My confession: I did it.

I…”drowned”

A little.

Watching them run into the water to save my flailing self was a thing of beauty. Legolas and Tauriel danced over the sand, slowing only when they reached knee-depth in the water, when the natural force of drag slowed them down.

In their wake, Phillip and Kendrick were fierce walls of compact muscle and fur, sending up miniature waves as their stronger legs cut through the surf and overtook the elvins.

I am a grown man, and so naturally I didn’t swoon a bit when Phillip grabbed my left arm and Kendrick my right and ushered me to safety (lifted me clear off my feet, and Phillip is right around my height, which is a nice change!). And I was calm and collected when Tauriel stroked my hair (the curls are always a big hit) and checked my vitals. Nor, to be sure, was my ego preening when Legolas glared at my daring rescuers and they smirked back over having saved my honorable life.

I have a feeling that they keep a running tally.

All four surrounded me, fussing over my health, chastising my foolishness, and dripping absolutely everywhere – all while my fellow beach patrons watched, filmed, and photographed my rescue with clear signs of enjoyment. I am a background star in at least fifteen individual selfies.

All in all, it was a lovely way to spend a morning in the surf and sun.

My readers can trust me, as a respected travel writer, when I give you my word that Central Beach is an up-and-coming area with immaculate sand, sufficient parking, ready access to fresh water, convenient rentals, and, of course, some of the finest lifeguards in all of Lune.


	5. Caravan

They talked about running away on the backs of motorcycles, all in leather, loud music growling in their wake-

Absolute badasses.

In reality, they escaped in a 12 year old van with wooden side panels, bought for cash two days out of Erebor-Dale.

They had their cousin Dwalin to thank for knowing enough about cars to see that the engine was solid. While their more immediate family was fine with raising them to be a third generation of trust fund babies and landholders, Dwalin had insisted that they needed the sort of everyday skills other people had. He was the one who taught them to change oil, properly do their own laundry, and take care of minor issues with cars.

They would come to realize, as they settled into their new lives, that they owed Dwalin more than they'd ever realized.

Their temporary home was dark red, the side panels pre-scratched for their convenience, the seats butter-soft from years of use. The back two seats were missing, but that wasn't a problem - they only needed the two front seats. The back they converted into their sleeping space: a mattress, pillows and blankets, a cooler. It was tight and messy and theirs.

Their space.

They left behind a mountain to live together in the back of an ugly old van. And it was perfect.

It was Kili who decided they needed the fairy lights, and Fili who rigged a way to run it through the van's power.

It was Fíli who picked out their mattress and sheets at a special going-out-of-business sale, and knew how to fluff the pillows just right.

They parked that first night at a roadside campsite, almost empty in the off season. Rain pounded the windows as they struggled to get the fitted sheet to stay on their mattress, as Kili strung the lights, as they wiggled out of their clothes and faced each other - finally - across their flat excuse for a bed.

It felt terribly awkward. And exciting. And just.

"Everything," Fili said, and Kili thought that was it, the only way to describe it, the only perfect word available. Everything.

They were nervous, and maybe a little scared, because they'd wanted so long, and hidden so long, and then, when they knew, they still couldn't HAVE and now they could-

Touch.

They fumbled and laughed and rolled off the mattress three times, and didn’t last more than five minutes (a brush of fingers and a gasp of air and-).

But they wouldn’t trade the mess or the blushes for anything in the world. 

Thunder cracked and rain slashed the windows as they tangled together, flushed and pleased with themselves and their world.

“Love you,” one whispered, and “You too,” the other agreed, and then soft giggles of joy as the rain fell harder and lightning flashed over bare skin and tangled blankets.


	6. Volleyball

They both played sports back – before (home hurts too much and it isn’t true; home is here, their sandy cottage and burnt noses and warm bodies tangled up into one person). Kili was an archer and Fili was a gymnast who indulged swordplay on the side. They’d both been highly ranked, Kili possibly on his way to the Ardan Games when the world shifted on its axis and ended with them together and on the run. 

There wasn’t a big call for bows or backflips in Lune. Never exactly popular, everyday sports, they didn’t dare bring too much attention to themselves by getting involved in the local amateur circuit. Besides, Kili’s bow had been a gift, and was too unwieldy not to leave behind in his abandoned room, and the injury that stole the Ardan Games from Fili at 16 had dulled his once-boundless enthusiasm. 

They settled for the gym instead, and runs along the beach (occasionally after a fleeing Dot) and then quite unexpectedly Fili and Kili discovered something new – 

Beach volleyball. 

They’d seen it on television, of course, even as an exhibition for the Games one year. But no one in Erebor played – even court volleyball was virtually unknown. 

In Lune, however, impromptu courts and permanent nets popped up all along the shore. There were three within view of their lifeguard station alone, and learning the rules was a fair use of time that first blistering summer. 

“Ask if you have any questions,” Tauriel said over lunch (only slightly sandy) one afternoon. “We know… a little bit about the game.”

Fili and Kili were both too savvy as competitors to miss the sly look she exchanged with Legolas “How’s that stick up your arse treatin’ ya?” Greenleaf.

“’Know a little’ my butt,” Kili muttered in Fili’s ear later that afternoon. “They’re planning to make us look like idiots.”

Fili’s eyes narrowed. He was a warm brown now and Kili secretly swore the ocean somehow made his brother’s eyes even more blue. “Then we’d better make sure we can trounce them first time out.”

Kili nodded solemn agreement. 

\-----

Of course, learning to play without the other guards knowing was a somewhat tricky matter.

The internet taught them a fair amount, but only as far as rules and moves went. Both brothers knew that you couldn’t play a sport just from watching others play. You had to get in there and start interacting, start playing, start _dominating._

…They did, perhaps, have somewhat over-developed competitive spirits.

There were sometimes random pick-up games at their own stretch of sand to protect, but of course they couldn’t go in and bungle their way through those with Legolas and Tauriel right there. So instead, they had to do some exploring – mostly in the evening, since they primarily worked a day shift.

There were various spots along the beach where permanent nets had been set up. They all proved to be popular party spots, complete with the occasional bonfire. Fili and Kili joined their first game as the sun was dipping behind the horizon. They chose it because the players were clearly competent without being super competitive; it was hard to learn from someone who spiked in your face every five seconds. 

What they hadn’t taken into consideration was the amount of beer, ale, and occasional liquor that flowed at these sort of summertime events. 

They started out with competent opponents.

They ended up with one giggly and one pissed off drunk, neither of whom seemed very clear about the rules.

“This could have gone better,” Kili commented as he sipped on his own beer. Their opponents were currently wrestling in the sand, probably getting it _everywhere._

They had experienced some sand, ah, wrestling of their own. 

Not as romantic as promised.

“It’s fine,” Fili assured him. “We have some basics down, and we can try again before our next day off.”

\-------

Finding sober games at night during the height of tourist season wasn’t such an easy feat. In fact, it became more of a matter of finding places that were less drunk and more tipsy, and getting the real players interested in a game or three before they had more than a beer or two in the belly. 

Oddly, it became easier to find good games when Kili brought Dot home and started taking her around with them. She distracted all the provider of drinks with her evil cuteness, keeping their opponents sober a bit longer.

“See?” Kili said. “I told you having a bun was a great idea!”

Serious volleyball was, they quickly learned, a sport of the tall. Elvens were especially deft at it, having both height and a lightness on their feet that purebloods couldn’t equal. Fili and Kili didn’t have height, so they had to figure out how to compensate. 

And compensate they did.

\--------

Fili and Kili met Tauriel and Legolas on the battleground of their own beach.

It was sunrise, still cool enough that they wouldn’t melt halfway through, the beach painted in pinks and violets. Fili and Kili wore their work trunks and shirts. Their opponents showed up in matching competition wear, all in greens.

“Told you,” Fili muttered, and Kili inwardly mourned Tauriel’s conniving ways.

And here he thought they were friends.

(“We are,” she would assure him later, “but this is _volleyball_.”)

The net was in serious need of repair, and the wind kicked sand in their eyes, but neither side would so much as consider backing down.

“We’re going to _destroy_ you,” Legolas informed them, and his smile would have looked right at home on a shark. 

Fili smiled back, slow and confident and sending a nice shiver up Kili’s back. “You’re welcome to try,” he said, and served the first ball.

It nearly took out Legolas’s ankle.

So they didn’t have height. One thing they did have was _strength._

“That’s one for us,” Kili crowed, never as good as Fili at staying calm and cool. 

“The only one,” Tauriel growled, and then the game was well and truly on.

The elvins played like well-trained maniacs. They had height and speed and insane balance, and moved as if they could somehow read each other’s minds. Sometimes, Kili would later swear, their feet barely shifted the sand as they stretched and leapt and spiked.

The dwarvins played like mildy desperate prodigies – and they paid no attention whatsoever to common standards of play. Surely it should have been against the rules for Kili to keep hitting the ball with his head, and Legolas called foul when Fili, the gymnast, leapt off his kneeling brother’s shoulder to spike a ball that should have gone well over both their stretched fingers.

“There are no rules against…against doing flips off your opponent,” Tauriel said, laughing, as Legolas snarled and sulked.

It quickly became a tournament.

And, just as quickly, a spectator sport.

Within an hour, the fierce combatants were surrounded by families on beach towels and blankets, all taking in the show with live action commentary. 

“The short ones are _hot._ ”

“The tall ones are hotter.”

“I’m sorry, have you had your eyes checked lately?”

“AND IT’S ANOTHER POINT FOR TEAM LIFEGUARDS!”

“They’re _all_ lifeguards!”

“Yeah, but Tauriel and Legolas are team Green Trunks.”

“…Right.”

\------

It ended, more or less, in a draw.

They were tied, three games to three, all glistening with sweat, Kili’s eyebrows pure evil, Tauriel and Fili’s ponytails glued to their backs, and Legolas trying hard to hide the stitch in his side when the elvins’ shift time arrived.

“You,” Legolas accused, clearly trying to breathe normally and absolutely not rubbing his hip, “timed this on _purpose_.”

Fili looked at Kili.

Kili looked at Fili.

“Yes,” they agreed. “We did.”

They grinned.

And walked away, heads held high at having met two experts toe to toe on the sand and coming out with a tie.

\----

At least, they walked tall until they were out of view.

Then they collapsed against each other.

“Bath?” Fili managed around a pained grimace.

“Hot bath,” Kili agreed.

And they limped victoriously home.

Where they stayed, more or less unmoving, for the next two days.

Dot was not amused. Denied her usual walk, she ate the wallpaper in the guestroom in retaliation.


	7. Cinnamon Toast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of them really needs to learn how to cook.

Growing up in a wealthy family meant running away with enough money to buy their van and their house, an excellent education in the fields of their choice, and the money to buy new identities. What it did not include, however, was appropriate training in how to cook. Fili and Kili had been raised in a house where their brilliant chef Bombur had done the cooking, leaving the young dwarvins to dedicate themselves to the serious task of eating.

On the road, they learned to build a decent fire and heat up various compenents sold in cans - soups, beans, beans and franks - and the occasional food on a stick, mostly weiners, sausages, and marshmallows. When they were desperate for a more balanced meal, Fili and Kili would stop at a proper campsite for a shower and clean clothes before heading into the local town in search of a diner or cafe. "Always look for where the locals eat," Dwalin used to tell them. Dwalin has always been their sole source of proper common sense. "That's where you'll find the best food."

But now they had a home - their very own! - and a kitchen that, while a bit "vintage" in Kili's estimation ("old" in Fili's), was in almost complete working order. That meant they needed to cook.

....Something.

In their first days, they were so tired that take-out from the local shrimp shack tided them over nicely. But there was something less than charming about waking up in the morning to reheated shrimp po boy and limp fries. It wasn't a homey feeling, and if there was one thing Kili was determined about in life, it was repaying Fíli’s determination by making this new house their home.

So he decided to do a little research.

Thank goodness for the internet, and especially thank Mahal the Maker for YouTube, where any spoiled rich kid on the run could learn to boil an egg and make toast in a frying pan.

Luckily, his brother was out of the house often enough, checking out the two local universities, that he could watch his child-level cooking videos in secret, and even practice a bit before he decided to surprise Fili with a home cooked breakfast.

In his secret imaginings, Kili sneaked out of bed an hour early, leaving his comfortably snoozing beloved to dream of cute and fluffy things while Kili tiptoed into the kitchen and prepared a breakfast fit for a king, full of bacon and cinnamon rolls and eggs and tomatoes and toast and-  
In reality, he woke up with thirty minutes and the knowledge of how to make a decent boiled egg and cinnamon toast.

It'd do.

Eggs were easy enough, just pop them in the water and turn the heat on, keeping an eye out for when they started boiling, but cinnamon toast was, in his eyes, a matter of some finesse.

Time and patience had taught him that the best way to prepare the toast was to melt the butter first and let it soak in to the cold bread before adding the topping - trying to spread cold butter just led to a mess and smooshed toast. He had practiced the ratio of cinnamon to sugar on several occasions (having, not so tragically, to eat all the results of his experiments so Fili wouldn't know what he was up to), until he learned to eyeball the exact color of perfect cinnamon-sugar coating.

This was serious business, after all.

He concentrated fully on the task at hand, lifting out the eggs at the perfect point, making sure the bottom of the toast was crispy and the top caramelized to a lovely crunchiness. He was nominally aware that the tip of his tongue was probably poking out the entire time, but with no one around to tease him, he didn't worry about it.

Three pieces of toast and two eggs each, the toast carefully cut into attractive(ish) fourths, the eggs cracked and half-released from their shells. He sprinkled a bit of cinnamon powder on the plate, added a few strawberries (Fili's favorite, though Kili felt they had an unreasonable number of seeds), and-

Realized he had no idea how to carry two plates, two mugs, and a pot of tea into the bedroom in one go.

In the movies, they always had fancy trays for this sort of eating in bed. He'd have to look into getting a couple. For now, he would have to depend on Fili's ability to sleep like the comatose, and sneak in the tea things first.

The sun was painting the ocean cheerful shades of pink and orange when Kili set down the pot and mugs on the bedside table, noting his own inadvertent brilliance at making tea instead of coffee that morning. The strong scent of coffee would've had his brother awake in seconds. Tea was more subtle.

One more trip on somewhat exaggerated tiptoe, carefully balancing a plate in each hand, and Kili was ready to kiss his sleeping handsome awake for breakfast in bed.

It took three kisses, one to the nose and two to the mouth, to bring Fili out of whatever dream he'd been enjoying. Well, three kisses and several "Fili!"s, because toast and eggs are NOT delicious cold and, "What are you, dead?!"

Finally he was rewarded with a groan, a stretch, and then sleepy blue eyes and a slow smile that made every butterfly in Kili's stomach take flight.

"Morning," Fili purred (well, yawned, but it was still sexy in its way) as he reached up and tugged Kili down for a proper good morning kiss.

In retrospect, Kili should have expected that.

And not, perhaps, been holding the plates at an odd angle away from his body...

Where they would inevitably tilt when Fili went in for the good morning snog.

"FOOD!" Kili yelped against Fili's lips.

 

Not the most romantic, but the food survived, save that one egg that escaped to the floor, but Kili wasn't one to dwell.

The danger was all worth it when he was curled in bed next to the love of his life, somewhat cool breakfast balanced on their knees, and watched with baited breath as Fili took his first crunchy bite of toast.

"Perfect," Fili declared, a bit of cinnamon still on his lips as they curved into his fondest and sweetest smile. "Not unlike you."

Kili felt his face warm, but didn't argue. He was, after all, pretty awesome. He could even cook!

A little.


	8. Yavannara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is inspired by Linane's beautiful and adorable art of Fili.   
> http://linane-art.tumblr.com/post/159607734391/fullsize-picture-happy-easter-my-other

Spring fertility festivals came out of the pureblood and elvin traditions more than the dwarvin; when your ancestors lived in mountains, they weren’t as impressed by the passage of seasons. However, as the races combined and melted together, it was the old human holidays that gained traction across the world, so spring was a time of fertility festivals. In Lune, the most popular and celebrated of these was the Yavannara, a celebration of new growth and baby animals and other precious things.

Fíli, as a student of culture, knew all about the history of the holiday, how it came out of the cult of Yavanna, its former importance in her veneration and hope for her support in the time of new growth. These days, however, it was mostly about bunnies and chicks and chocolate, two out of three of which were of great personal interest to the love of Fíli’s life.

He certainly couldn’t let that just go by without celebrating it properly!

Even if it meant waking up early in the morning, Mahal forbid.

Chocolate was the easy part. It was all over the place, in a myriad of forms and prices. Fíli chose quality over quantity and avoided anything bunny-shaped. His brother was not a fan of eating sweet representations of his beloved pets.

“It’s like..cannibalism!” he’d said in disgust as they perused their local candy shop.

“You’re not a rabbit, Kíli.”

“They are part of our family, Fíli!” Kíli had laid a hand over his heart, honestly offended at the very thought that they two of them had somehow not become part-bunny over the last 18 months.

So, no bunny chocolates.

Instead, Fíli bought some high-quality oddball treats: bacon in dark chocolate, chili peppers in a dark bar, and the classic salted caramel dark bites that Kíli could only eat when alone or in Fíli’s company – Fíli didn’t allow him to moan like that in public.

The bunny part – that was a little more of a challenge. But he had a plan, the sort that would make Kíli laugh and grin in the way Fíli loved best. A simple on-line order took care of half the plan. The other half – that took some time and finagling. The gift had to be perfect, and some research and travel was required to make sure it was. 

He picked up the ultimate gift the day before, leaving it overnight with Bilbo and Bofur at their farm. Unfortunately, they lived more than 20 minutes out of town, which necessitated sneaking out of bed before dawn without waking Kíli (a seemingly impossible task, but Fíli was a smart man; he might possibly have plied his Kíli with enough champagne to give him a good night’s sleep but no unpleasant side effects. It made Kíli snore more than usual, but it also meant he could carefully sneak away for an hour without his brother waking up and starting on the coffee.

The bright colors of dawn were fading when Fíli slipped back into the house. He arranged Kíli’s chocolates on one of their mis-matched but beloved plates (all carefully selected from various second-hand shops) and set the coffee maker. Then he opened his hidden package and pulled out two ridiculous items: a large set of bunny ears and, to his amusement, a fluff of a tail. 

(He knew the ears would tickle Kíli, but he never again wanted to remember the terrible images he had found in his Google search of “bunny costume.” Horrors.)

A brief glance in the mirror made him grin. One long white ear stuck straight up; the other bent and flopped at a rakish angle. Perfect. He wanted to be laughed at in the best way, and this was going to make that happen. Though he did need to stop and do a bit of fussing with his braids, trying to find some happy medium of “attractive and yet hilarious.”

Then he gently lifted Kíli’s most significant gift from the basket he’d traveled in from the Boffins’ place, cupping it carefully in his hands and making his way out of the kitchen and down the little hallway to their seafront bedroom.

(He did almost lose his ears in the kitchen doorway, but luckily didn’t let go of the Ultimate prize. He wasn’t used to being so tall in their older, low doorways. Was this how Kíli felt all the time? Or the elvins? They definitely needed to invite Legolas and Tauriel over. Let them hit their heads a few time before a game of volleyball on the beach…)

He stepped into the bedroom.

He’d parted the heavy curtains before he left, and early morning light gently filtered through the white sheers and onto the blue and green quilt that had been a gift from the Ri brothers for Kíli’s birthday. And cuddled under them, only a mess of brown hair visible, was his Kíli. 

Something warm and familiar unfurled in Fíli’s chest, and he took a moment to luxuriate in the feeling before calling a gentle, “Kíli?”

The dark hair shifted, the lump mmmed a question, and slowly the face that Fíli had abandoned a life for poked blearily from the blanket. “Fíli?”

“Hello, love,” Fíli said, grinning. “Happy Yavannara!”

Kíli blinked sleepily. He rubbed his eye with one fist, as he had done their entire lives, shook his head, and blinked again. 

The he burst out laughing, his voice rough from sleep, his eyes bright and sleepy at once. “What in the world-“

In his best professor voice, Fíli answered, “As is traditional in the ancient human and hobbit holiday of Yavannara, I have gifted you with a rabbit.” Then he grinned, dimples deepening and eyes shining. “Two rabbits!” he said, and lifted his right hand.

On his palm, tiny and fawn –colored with a smudge of black on his nose, was a very young, healthy, and bright-eyed bunny. As if specially trained, he didn’t try to escape, but just turned his adorable head to show his cuteness to best advantage.

The sound Kíli made could only be described as an unusually deep cry of delight, and it was perfectly offset by his attempt to leap from the bed in excitement, only to get tangled in the sheets and get trapped half way, falling to the floor in a mess of Kíli, blankets, and cheerful quilt.

Fíli, laughter bubbling up, wrapped both hands protectively around the new member of their family and let the giggles out as Kíli wriggled his way to freedom. 

“Shush, you!” Kíli told him, but Fíli only laughed unrepentedly. “Help me up!”

Gently, Fíli placed the new bun on the bed, then crossed to Kíli, helped untangle him, and half-lifted him back onto the bed before curling up next to him. “Come here, new bun,” he cooed gently, and the little bunny – so carefully selected after half an hour of interacting with his whole litter, hopped cheerfully over and into Fíli’s lap. 

Kíli reached over and gently ran a finger over the small head. “He’s for me?” he asked quietly.

“For us,” Fíli said. “He’s young, but I got advice on how to introduce him to Dot and MegaBun.” 

Kíli’s gentle smile widened, and he looked under his lashes, the flirt. He reached up and tweaked one of Fíli’s ears. “Is this bunny for me too?” he asked slyly.

Fíli’s return smile was just as sly. “Definitely,” he said, “but not with the baby in the room.”

Kíli chuckled and looked down at the bunny on Fíli’s knee. “I guess it can wait,” he said, and gently lifted the bun to kiss the soft, tiny head. 

(Fíli did end up removing the tail before their new bun was tucked in his intermediary cage and Kíli was ready for some chocolate-and-kisses; it was not comfortable to sit on. But Kíli, the brat, insisted he keep the ears on for some of the most ridiculously, happily giggly sex of their young lives.)


End file.
